


The Unheard of Question

by PaulsPasta



Category: The Beatles, classic rock - Fandom
Genre: Hopefully y'all will enjoy, M/M, McLennon, McLennon Fanfic Exchange, My first long fic !!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10188479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulsPasta/pseuds/PaulsPasta
Summary: How did the famous Lennon-McCartney meet?  The stories a long and winding road





	1. 1

Reporters camera’s flashing, hundreds of people yelling, and four young musicians crammed in the small smoke-filled lobby of a hotel in Australia. To most people this would be an event to avoid at all costs, but this wasn’t any ol’ meet and greet; This was the Beatles, the fab four, the greatest rock n’ roll band to ever form.  
The lads were doing a quick interview, well it was supposed to be a quick one, in Australia before they left back to their homes for a break. The questions were the same ones they were asked time and time before. That was until one lady, sitting in the middle chairs, asks the question no one had thought to ask the four before, “How did John Lennon and Paul McCartney meet?”  
John and Paul glanced at each other and smiled, the story was long and complex, much like their relationship was.  
The day John met Paul it all started moving, his life had meaning, the day he met Paul was something for the history books. For Paul it was the first time someone had taken an interest in music as intense as he had. The meeting was a match made in heaven, or well, at least made by Ivan.  
“Well, uh,” John began to stutter out, “It was back in ‘57 after I had done a performance for a fair with me band at the time, The Quarrymen, Paul had come with his guitar and we hit it off, and the rest is history.” John had said in short.  
There was silence, the camera flashes had ceased, people couldn’t believe that was the story of how the two greatest songwriters had met, there had to be more.  
“Is that it? The great Lennon McCartney just met after a concert?” A man in the front asked with a chuckle after the moment of silence.  
John took a deep breath and looked at Paul and Paul looked at him. No, that wasn’t it, that didn’t even hint at what really happened between the two young lads.  
“Y’know, it’s a long and winding story, that’s the simplified version really, here’s the long and painstaking version, get your notepads ready, it’s a doozy.” Paul said obviously eager to share his side to a great beginning.  
“Our story isn’t one of an easy life, of music, or of money, as many would suspect. It was a dream, a dream that expanded and cracked, parts changed, some stayed, feelings came into play, people came and went. . .”


	2. 2

Flashback to July 5th, 1957

In the small bedroom of fifteen year old Paul Mccartney, the sun was obnoxiously shining in through the closed wooden blinds, causing the young boys puppy eyes to flutter and soon become teary. Paul abruptly turned to the other wall hoping to sleep longer when a face hit his.   
“Wha-Who?!” Paul stuttered out, he was at least ninety five percent positive he was in bed alone last night.  
Mike Mccartney, his younger brother, began to laugh, so much in fact, his face turned an ugly shade of blue, very, very ugly. Paul let out a low groan and threw a pillow at his younger brothers face before asking Mike what he had been doing in his bed.   
“HEY! The pillow was uncalled for! Ivan is here and ready to walk with you to school, wouldn’t want to keep him waiting would ye?” Mike replied, tossing the pillow back to Paul.  
Paul moved the covers off and crawled out of the bed, “Mmm, I really would love to but I guess I’ll go bless him with my presence and all.” Paul said with a smile playing his lips.  
Mike let out a small laugh before walking out shutting the door with him, like any semi-decent human would.   
‘What was Mike thinking just laying in bed with me while Ivan was waiting?? More creepily, how did he know that I would turn around?? I swear that weird noodle has some sort of magic in him.’ I thought as I frantically was searching for a pair of pants that weren’t drainies.   
I soon found a complete outfit, a light grey button up and black slacks, maybe not one of my best, but it’ll have to do. I quickly opened the door and ran down the stairs, scrambling on my way to the kitchen.   
“Ivan! Mate, sorry I took so long, some people can’t wake others up normally.” I said darting my eyes between Ivan and Mike, trying to get the point across that it's all Mike's fault, like any good brother does, y’know.  
“You're fine Paul, I know you need your time in the morning to put your face on.” Ivan said smiling and winking at Mike.  
“Ha. Ha. Ha. You are hilarious, really,” I said with every hint of salt, “Now we should be on our way.” I grabbed a slice of toast and motioned towards the door to get walking towards school.   
It was a fairly nice morning, for Liverpool that is, it was sunny with a few stray clouds painting the sky, a nice breeze brushing past us, some could almost consider this warm. This was one of the few nice days to walk to school.   
Ivan and I found a decent sized rock to kick back and forth as we walked. We kicked a couple rounds before finding ourselves about a block from the school building.  
“Paul, do you want to go to the fair at the church with me this weekend?” Ivan asked.  
“I thought you had a girl, I do recall you saying she was perfect and probably the one for you?” I said, it was true, every time Ivan got a girl she was instantly ‘the one’. I don’t understand how one can just meet someone and decide that this person needs to stay in their life forever.  
“Okay, one, rude and uncalled for, my heart is truly and utterly broken Paulie, that hurt.” Ivan gasped with an exaggerated tone, “And two, you’re the next princess I know, so what d’ya say, hm? Will you take me to the ball?”  
“I’m sure you’re in emotional hell at the moment,” I said trying to sound empathetic but ended up rolling my eyes, “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not.”  
“Come on Paul, It’ll be fun! There is a band I really think you should go and give a listen to, they call themselves the Quarrymen. For all you know they could change your life.” Ivan said in an attempt to convince me.  
I let out a huge sigh before agreeing to go. I’ve heard about the Quarrymen before, one of the newest rock n’ roll bands to form. It seems like everyone is finding a group to join, trying to make it big.  
Ivan and I soon turned the corner and found ourselves at the school building. You could see the crowds of teenagers all jamming their way into the front entrance, the bell had just rung.   
Ivan waved a goodbye before running off to his class, leaving me to try and shove past the crowds alone, rude. I walked up the flight of stairs to my English class, sat my bag down, and prepared for the long and treacherous day ahead of me.  
A few papers and tests later last period finally came. I had maths with Mr. Mustard, he was what most would consider to be mean, and they’d be more than right. Even in the Maths department he is known to be one of the hardest graders on campus. Thankfully I had George to suffer with.   
George walked in just as the bell rang and plopped in the seat across from me. 

*School bell ringing*

Finally, freedom, the weekend is here and all I have to do is that fair thing with Ivan and I am totally free to do whatever I want.   
I picked my bag up and ran to the front of the school to walk home with George. George was my best mate, we met a while ago on the bus from school. He plays guitar, not bad either, almost as good as me, on a good day that is.   
“Paul! You ready?” George asked, his hair was huge, and when I say huge I mean you couldn’t lose him in the market.   
“Ready to sleep for two days? Ready as I will ever be.” I replied smiling. “Have any plans this weekend, Geo?”  
“I have a history project to get done and then I’m homefree, you want to come over and jam?” George asked while shoving papers into his bag.  
“Maybe Sunday, I have to go to that fair at the church.” I said blantly, I’m really not looking forward to this to be honest. I would rather just stay home, learn some new chords, and eat everything within reach.  
“I heard some really good band is going to be there, you’ll have to tell me about them, seriously Paul, get in good with them, learn their ways, your career could depend on it.” George joked slapping my back.  
I started laughing at the thought, “Mmm ya, I’m sure a band playing in the back of a church is just fab, I’ll just hop on stage, scream my name and hope they let me join, sounds like a bloody perfect plan.” Ok, I might keep this in mind for future emergency jobs. ‘Paul McCartney, do I get the job now?’ Ye never know, maybe they’d like my name.  
“Hahaha, after you do that they’d take you to the back and beat you, but hey, anything for some nice dough!” George laughed.  
We came to George's house, it was the typical British home, small but homey. George quickly waved goodbye before running in. I always think he’s going to go inside and make himself the world's biggest sandwich, I wouldn’t doubt it honestly, that boy can eat for three and then some.   
I walked the small rode to my house, kicking the rare pebble. I walked in the doors, threw my bag onto the coffee table, and proceeded up stairs to my bed. This is where I intend on spending the next twelve hours before meeting up with Ivan.


	3. The Meeting

The Next Morning, July 6th, 1957 

“Unngggg.” I do not want to get up, no, nope. It’s about eleven and Ivan said he’d be here around noon, I could sleep or I could be responsible and get ready. I let out a sigh and flung myself out of bed. I soon found my dresser and pulled some clothes out, a nice white button up shirt and an old pair of slacks, no use in dressing for the red carpet if you're not walking it. I walked to the bathroom and grabbed a comb, my hair wasn’t really long enough for that elvis look but I tried, I brushed my teeth and went to wait for Ivan out front.  
Today was a fantastic day for being outside, it was warmer than yesterday and breezy, not a cloud was in the sky. I soon saw Ivan making his way up the road and began walking toward him. It wouldn’t be a very long walk, thank god.  
Soon we arrived at Saint Peter’s, Ivan said that the Quarrymen would be on in a minute and that we should begin heading over. As we walked through the green field there were stands we could go up and buy something from, one stand had fresh cookies and they looked amazing, I tried to go grab one but Ivan said, and I quote, “This will change your life, you can’t miss this”, that cookie could’ve changed my life too, who knows.  
Ivan grabbed my arm and we ran across the green field to the makeshift stage where the bands would be playing.  
Just as Ivan and I got a spot in the back center area the Quarrymen had stepped up. None of them really looked like men to be honest, except one. He was the lead singer, he wore a red checkered shirt and drainies, and had his auburn hair like Elvis, almost better than. His voice was as sweet as honey but it had the rock n’ roll twist to it, beautiful.   
I leaned towards Ivan, hitting him with my shoulder, “Who's the guy in the red and singing lead?”  
“That’s John Lennon, he’s the lead in the band, I’m sure you’ve heard his name ‘round.” Ivan replied quickly.  
John Lennon, local trouble maker, shoplifter, ladies man, and had a giant ego, that John Lennon. Soon the words began to fill the air around the growing crowd. The crowd was full within minutes, one lady in particular stood out. She had a bright red dress on, almost the same color as her hair. She clapped and cheered the entire bit.   
Love, love me darlin’  
Come and go with me,  
Please don’t send me  
'way beyond the sea;  
I need you, darlin’,  
So come go with me.  
At this moment John’s eyes and mine locked, or well he glanced at me as I studied him.  
Yes, I need you,  
Yes, I really need you,  
Please say you’ll never leave me.  
Well, say, you never,  
Yes, you really never,  
You never give me a chance…  
I could tell he was playing banjo chords, not guitar chords, and that he didn’t know all the words to this song, but he was a lyrical genius and made parts up as he went.  
The song was coming to its end and the crowd began to cheer, well some did, the older attendees were clapping, boring if you ask me, the teenagers and little kids were cheering, as it should be for a rock band. Loud and obnoxious.   
“So? What did you think? Do they live up to the McCartney expectations?” Ivan asked.   
“Ye- They’re alright, do you think we could meet them?” I replied, of course they were great, well John was, the others were so-so.   
Ivan simply nodded and guided me towards where they would be. Soon we were in the hall, “Hey John, There’s someone I want you to meet.” John took a last drink from his bottle and walked over to us. “This is Paul, he plays too.”   
John smiled and then laughed, “What? With himself?” The strong smell of beer was lingering in the air off of John’s breathe.   
I didn’t really know how to respond, was this rhetorical, was he actually curious, or was this just his version of ‘hello’.   
“I do, it’s good for the wrist muscles,” John smirked, “I heard you saw us on that glamorous stage, what did ya think? We to your liking?”  
Yes, they were, very much so, but don’t want to come off like this, gotta play it cool McCartney, “You were alright.” Yes, very casual, nice.  
The comment threw John off a bit, the boy didn’t seem all that impressed. “You play?” John asked motioning towards the guitar thrown over Paul's shoulder.  
Now, now is my time, my time to show him I can improve his band. “I do a bit ya.”  
“What can you play?  
“Just about anything you could want.” Was that too blunt? I guess we'll find out.  
“Twenty Flight Rock, ya know that one?” John asked, thank all that is holy that I did.  
“I think I do,” I said as I reached my hand out for John’s guitar, “y’know if you tuned this that “alright” would have been better.” I stated as I tuned the guitar before playing. John looked a bit impressed but with his ego it was difficult to tell.

Ooh, well I got a girl with a record machine  
When it comes to rockin' she's the queen,  
We love to dance on a Saturday night,  
All alone where I can hold her tight,  
But she lives on the twentieth floor uptown,  
The elevator's broken down,  
I took a breath and glanced up, John looked a bit amazed to be honest, he was smiling and tapping his foot, the rest of the band were whispering, that’s always a good sign.   
So I'll walk one, two flight, three flight, four,  
Five, six, seven flight, eight flight, more,  
Up on the twelfth I'm startin' to drag,  
Fifteenth floor I'm a-ready to sag,  
Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock,  
I took one last breath for the end bit of the lyrics, this was it, the big finale.  
When she calls me up on the telephone,  
Say, come on over honey, I'm all alone,  
I said, baby you're mighty sweet,  
But I'm in bed with the achin' feet,  
This went on for a couple of days,  
But I couldn't stay away.

My hand went across the guitar string one last time, playing the last chord and I was done. Before I even looked up from the neck of the guitar I heard applauds, everyone was clapping, I impressed them, all of them. I smiled, I did it.  
Slightly shaking his head John came up to me, “You’re alright with that thing, besides playing it upside down, how old are you?”  
Alright, the word I’ve been using to mean extravagant, talented, and perfect, either he caught on or I’m just fucking lucky. “I’m fifteen. And I’m left handed, I had to learn to play upside down.”   
With that John took his hand from his pocket and extended it towards me, “John Lennon.” He said with a smile.  
“Paul McCartney.” I said grasping his hand with a grin. With this I walked out, he knew my name, that’s all he needed.   
“Hey! What if I want to call you sometime, is that alright?” John shouted.  
I turned to answer “That would be alright.” I lied, it would be more than alright.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //This ones super-duper short//

The Interview   
“That is how the Lennon McCartney duo met, nothin’ fancy, but perfect for us, the perfect way to meet, through music.” Paul had said in conclusion.  
Soon the interview had come to an end and the four went to the hotel they’d be staying in for just a few more days. George and Ringo went to their shared room and John and Paul to theirs.   
“You know Paul, you left out some pretty grand information back there.” John had said in reference to the interview.  
Paul chuckled, “Ya? Didn’t realize. What stuff would that be?”  
“The most important details, that’s what you let slip your mind.” John said, motioning for them to go to the beds. “Y’know, how we spent countless nights together, watched the sunrise together, stuff in that general area,” John pulled Paul's hand to his and locked eyes, “The important things.”


	5. 5

July 10, 1957 

It had been almost a week since John had met Paul McCartney. For one week he was the only thing on his mind. The way his eyes shined in the sunlight, the dark brown color with flecks of hazel nut, just like melting chocolate, or the deep brown of twilight in a forest. The way he sang, with such ease and power. 

John wasn’t sure why he’d waited this long to call Paul, for once it wasn’t because he was lazy or didn’t want to talk to someone. He did, he wanted to talk to Paul more than anything, wanted to write with him, to have him in his band, wanted to change history with him, mostly he just wanted Paul with him.   
John went to the kitchen to find the phone book and finally call Paul. He fingered quickly through the pages until he stumbled upon “McCartney”. John punched in the numbers and awaited for Paul's smooth voice to answer.

“Hello, McCartney residence.” This was not Paul. Not in the slightest. The voice was low and gravelly, Throwing John off.  
“Uh Um, ya uh, Is Paul here?” John spluttered out. Good job Johnny boy, very smooth and casual.  
“He is, who should I say is calling?” Mr. McCartney asked.   
“John Lennon, he may not remember me though, we met last week at the fair while I was performing.” John replied quickly, he was hoping to all that was holy if he added enough details Mr. McCartney wouldn't recognize who it was. Most parents didn’t care for John, said he was ‘too much trouble to be acquainted with’.   
“Oh, okay.” Mr. McCartney said, John could hear the drop in his voice, he knew.  
“Paul! Telephone for you, it's a “John Lennon!” He shouted up to what john assumed was Paul's room.

In record breaking speed Paul came running down the stairs, thanked his dad, and took the phone.  
“Hey! I thought you woulda called sooner, Lennon.” Paul greeted with while playing with the phone's long cord.  
“I’m a busy man, McCartney, luckily I had a spot for you today,” John replied chuckling, “Anyways, I called to ask you if you wanted to come by tonight?”  
“I think first you should buy me a drink.” Paul joked.  
Johns face grew red once he caught on to what Paul hinted at, “N-no I meant my bands rehearsing, you should come over, we could use a bass player who can play more than 3 chords.” John said quickly.  
“Shame. I’d love to come over later, I’ll see ye later than!” Paul said.  
“Sounds good, see you soon!” John replied hanging up the phone.

“John I’m going into town! I’ll be back in a few hours!” Johns Aunt Mimi yelled up the stairs to John's bedroom.  
‘Good.’ John thought in the back of his mind, this way he could have the home to himself with the band in a few minutes, they could actually practice with instruments. Mimi wasn’t a hater of music per se, but she wouldn’t allow john’s ‘lil friends’ to come over to physically play inside, they’d either go somewhere else or have to go outback to the shelter, still strumming quietly. Plus he could grab the beers without worry.

Back over a few blocks, Paul, was getting ready to walk over to Menlove Avenue to John’s home. He wore a dark blue pair of drainies and a plain black tee. Paul knew he’d have to sneak out from his father if he wore the tight fitting pants, but he figured they made more of a rock n’ roll statement then his school slacks would. Quickly grabbing his guitar and throwing it over his shoulder he began crawling out the bathroom window, beginning the first of many journeys to John Lennon’s.


	6. 6

Paul turned his heel sharply to the white fenced in yard to which was John’s home. Obviously kept clean, the grass appeared greener than any grass he’d seen, the gate was completely white and the hinges well kept, not letting the smallest squeak escape. The pathway to the door was not as one would expect, just a path through the grass, indented from where it had been walked over the hundreds of thousands of times. The home was small but had character, it was a pale blue paneling white crowning, with windows on each side going up to the second story. The door was a contrasting blue with a panel of windows along the top that housed family pictures.   
Paul quickly knocked on the door and took a step back. Paul was beaming, smiling ear to ear, he couldn’t be happier, this was his dream, possibly being in a band, a real band. Music was the world and more to him, his mom had introduced him to the magic that was music. She was the one who bought him his first guitar and showed him a few chords, she gave him his inspiration and dreams. Pauls mom lighted a path Paul saw so gloomy, before music he had no ideas on what to be, what to do with his life. With a few strings and a push of motivation he’d found exactly what he wanted, to be in a band, and right now, right here, that could happen, Paul was a bit ecstatic. 

“Paul you made it!” John practically screamed, pulling Paul inside.  
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Paul responded equally as loud.  
John and Paul walked over to a group of other boys, they looked familiar, most likely the guys from the fair. Before they sat on the floor with their guitars John through a beer Pauls way, Paul barely catching it earned a few snickers.   
“Obviously already had a few too many…” A lightly haired boy said smirking.  
“Shut it Pete, at least his parents probably let him drink, yours have a fit,” John remarked.   
Soon everyone had found a seat and were strumming along. The band and Paul played through songs while records quietly played in the background. They practiced for a short time before being kicked out by Mimi.   
Everyone had been drinking themselves to drunkenness except John and Paul. Though the two would never admit it, they both wanted to remember this night and all the events without holes.  
“What about the cemetery? I heard if you go in through the back gates you won't be caught, that would be interesting!” Pete asked. Paul hoped to god he wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to go.  
Cemeteries were not a fun place for him, nor would they ever be. After his mom’s passing, he couldn’t walk past the god forsaken place without feeling a sadness deeper than the oceans.  
“Ya, that sounds good!” John replied, and Paul cringed, they were going for certain now. He couldn’t back out if he wanted in the Quarrymen, and he did.  
As the majority swayed their ways down the road heading towards the cemetery, John and Paul lingered behind a bit. 

“So, you think you can teach me a few guitar chords then? Probably be a more professional than banjo y’know Hahaha.” John said with a grin as he looked at Paul.  
“I think so, for the small price of that Elvis record you played, and you got yourself a deal,” Paul replied with a smirk holding out his hand.  
“Mmm, what about instead of my beloved records, you audition to join me band? Does that sound good enough for Paul McCartney?” John said now holding out his hand. Paul reached forward and shook his hand vigorously.   
“That sounds more than good!! When and where?” Paul asked, he obviously wanted this, who knows where this band could go, this could be his chance to become the biggest band in the world.   
John didn’t answer right away he walked a few paces and then handed over his guitar, “Right here, right now.”   
With a little hesitation, Paul grabbed the guitar and asked what song should be played and started quietly singing, hoping the others wouldn’t come over.

Well, that's alright, mama  
That's all right for you  
That's all right mama, just anyway you do  
Well, that's alright, that's all right.  
That's all right now mama, anyway you do  
When paul took a breath he looked up to see if John at least looked entertained, and he did, he was smiling and mouthing the words along with him, he even had more jump in his step.  
Mama she done told me,  
Papa done told me too  
'Son, that gal your foolin' with,  
She ain't no good for you'  
But, that's alright, that's all right.  
That's all right now mama, anyway you do

I'm leaving town, baby  
I'm leaving town for sure  
Well, then you won't be bothered with  
Me hanging 'round your door  
Well, that's alright, that's all right.  
That's all right now mama, anyway you do

With the last stroke of his fingers, Paul handed back the guitar, “How was that, good enough to be a Quarryman?”  
“Just barely, next time don’t change my tuning. You're in!” John said slightly pushing Paul off the sidewalk. Paul was smiling the biggest he’d ever, his wishes had been answered, he was finally in a band.

As everyone turned to the back end of the cemetery Paul was considering just running as fast as he could to get away. The doors to it looked rusted like no one had been there in decades. When John went to open them they made the most agonizing creaking noise you could imagine. A few steps from getting inside the property, John looked back and gave Paul a mischievous smile, this was the John Lennon he’d heard about.  
Eventually, everyone was in, Pete was shoving John into a tombstone, and Paul was silently in the back waiting leave. John seemed interested in the place, not being destructive like Paul would imagine.   
John took his guitar out and started strumming again, with the wrong chords, still, he continued to play.  
“Why do you play like that?” Paul questioned.  
“My mom, Julia, taught me on the banjo and when I switched I didn’t know anyone who could show me the ways of the guitar, that's why you're here, show me your wisdom, McCartney.” John grinned while absently strumming the strings.   
“Ah, My mom taught me too, she’s the reason I even take an interest in music really.” paul whispered. He hoped no one would ask the question of his mother as he focused on john's “guitar” playing.  
“Hold your index finger a string higher and you ring to the right a bit, that will give you a C opposed to the B,” Paul said moving John’s fingers slightly.  
“Johnny boy’s got plenty of C’s don't worry about that hahaha!” Pete shot quickly and the group began laughing, laughing loud.  
WIthin a minutes they could all hear keys coming in their direction, they all looked up at each other and shouted: “RUN!” Everyone jumped off of the tombstones and made a mad dash to the exit, after they got out they didn’t stop running, they kept going and going. At some point Paul realized John had grabbed his arm in the rush and still hadn’t let him go, he wasn’t going to complain though that was for sure. They ran into a huge field outlined with trees bigger than trains along with benches along a lake, a sign read “Strawberry Fields”.  
The group laid down in the center of the grassy area staring up at the clear night sky, the stars dancing among each other and the moon glowing down upon the world. No one talked for a long time, just laid and relaxed. Until Paul stood up and announced that he would be going home. John decided to walk along with Paul, they made their way out of the field and began walking on the road.  
Within a few minutes, the duo saw Paul's home ahead.   
“So I’ll see you tomorrow then?” John asked.  
“I’d like that, you wanna come over and I can show you come chords and whatnot?” Paul responded he hoped john would come over so he wouldn’t have to get dressed on a Sunday.  
“Well I think you should buy me a drink first but what the hell!” John scoffed.  
As they came to the end of the sidewalk Paul waved goodbye to John and John the same.   
Paul couldn’t wait for the next day.

 

AN: AHHHHH SORRY THIS IS SO LATE IM TRYING TO GET ALL THE CHAPTERS UPDATED TODAY AND TOMORROW BUT MY WIFI IS AWFUL   
An emergency came up again so so sorry!!


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